After Hours
by Always With Amy
Summary: Jeremiah's grateful that Kurt got him his job back. Really, really grateful. - PWP; SLS. Glee Kink Meme fill.


"So just so we're both clear...you do know that that was a _really _bad idea, right? That the plan was doomed from the start? It's his _workplace,_" Kurt says casually, though with all the false sympathy he can find it in himself to muster, situation considered. If he's being brutally honest, more than a small part of him thinks that there isn't any reason for him to even _fake _feelings of commiseration for his – _friend _– to whom Kurt's attraction (and, falsely enough, whose attraction _to _Kurt) had been declared by several people (notably, Jeff and Quinn) to be blatantly obvious. At the same time, however, he _is _Blaine, and there's something about him that makes it very difficult to hate him completely.

Thankfully for Kurt's sanity, it isn't nearly as difficult to be _supremely irritated _with Blaine, as he was finding out while staring at the dejected male sitting next to him, head in hands. Said dejected male's answer of, "Yeah," comes out as a mumble made further garbled by the way that his palms are pressing (almost painfully, it looks) into his face, but Kurt decides not to bring up Blaine's failure at enunciation, as he usually would.

Instead, Kurt just sighs, and rests a semi-comforting hand on Blaine's knee. "Look, Blaine, I know you're upset – I get it, I really do. Believe me, I've made an ass of myself in that same way – though on a smaller, and less public scale – too. Think about it from Jeremiah's point of view, though – you're his friend, and not only did he have to potentially ruin his friendship with you because you have feelings he doesn't…reciprocate…he also lost his job."

If Blaine notices the way that it's nearly _killing _Kurt to be admitting that _he actually feels __**bad **__for the guy that beat him out for Blaine's affections_, he doesn't say anything. That thought alone shows Kurt that _Blaine really __**doesn't **__notice_. He's always one for _talking things out_, in a fashion far too mature for a hormonal and pissy teenager.

That notion just annoys Kurt further, particularly when Blaine hums with unconvincing understanding, and leans against Kurt's shoulder with unfair adorableness. "Yeah, I know…" he says unhappily, though he doesn't sound particularly _willing _to know.

With an expression he can only imagine is something caught between a grimace and a sorrowful smile, Kurt squeezes Blaine's knee slightly tighter. "It would be like if I told you through some dramatic announcement in front of all the Warblers that I was in love with you, and _you _ended up getting kicked out for it."

The way that Blaine proceeds to glance over at Kurt, and actually have the stupid nerve to _smile _in a way that clearly says, _he gets the 'hypothetical' situation, and the injustice, but he doesn't see how it relates to __**him**_is more than slightly frustrating, and it's all Kurt can do to _not _strange the boy as he answers with a weak smile of his own. Kurt chooses not to dwell on the fact that _Blaine's reaction makes it clear that he thinks the idea of him and Kurt is ridiculous, _and instead just releases his grip on his friend. "I'm going to talk to Jeremiah's manager, all right?" he says with a forced _gentle _tone that still manages to verge on _total loathing _for his latest unrequited crush – the one that was supposed to be _sensitive _and _thoughtful _and _observant. _"I'll see if I can't talk some sense into his manager."

He turns and starts heading towards the store without waiting for his – _friend _– to say anything in response. It's strangely satisfying.

_**xox**_

As it turns out, doing so is just as easily done as said. After a short, _calm _discussion with the manager (in which Kurt _may _have taken a page from Rachel's book and threatened the woman with the ACLU), Kurt finds himself with a self-satisfied, and somehow _accomplished _spring in his step as he returns to where Blaine has yet to move from his self-pitying position. (Although he does look – barely – more composed, Kurt must admit to himself, though he does so with mild annoyance.)

That spring in his step dies away quickly, however, when Kurt doesn't receive a greeting in the form of a _Thank you for getting my friend his job back after I totally fucked it up for him_, or an _I'm sorry I just sang to someone else on Valentine's Day when I've been sending you mixed signals and you've been sending me clear ones_, or even a goddamn _Hey_.

Blaine just sheepishly holds up the hideous pair of socks he purchased, and asks with near-painful obliviousness, "Could you return these for me, please? I just bought them to…well, y'know, as an excuse for his attention. But they're really ugly –" (Kurt doesn't even have the mental clarity at this point to interject with an agreement, even though _they really are_.) "And I don't think that I can ever show my face in there – or in any GAP, probably – for, oh, ever?"

Teeth clenched, and glare threatening to tear free of Kurt's mask and turn its full force on Blaine's dapper mug, Kurt wordlessly and huffily snatches the bag from his friend, before turning towards that horrid store _again_. (He doesn't even _like _the GAP, and now he's headed back into it for the third time today, Kurt thinks to himself with a disappointed shake of the head.)

Kurt thinks that he hears Blaine call out a well-deserved, "Thanks!" after him, but he's not entirely certain. At the same time, he thinks that he's _really _lost all reason to care if Blaine did or not.

_**xox**_

Returning the garments take a matter of minutes – though the cashier makes conversation by giving Kurt a cheeky grin, and inquiring with insincere offhandedness, "What, not the right size or something?"

Kurt recognizes her from having been present for the "performance" earlier, and answers the question with an all-telling roll of his eyes. She doesn't ask any more questions, though she does catch him by the wrist and suggests, "I can tell that this place isn't really your speed, but maybe you should come in here more often. Probably not your friend, but – since you got Jerry's job back? I think he's at fanboy level now."

(The countertenor dismisses her words as signs of insanity mixed with retail mindedness, and only hopes slightly that his expression of concern for her mental health didn't offend her.)

Pausing by the exit, Kurt gives Blaine's distant figure a wary glance in an attempt to decide whether he'd be better off pretending that he's _not _thoroughly disappointed by the inadvertent rejection from the _one _boy he'd felt certain he really had a chance with, or by pretending that he received an emergency call from Finn and had to leave without saying goodbye. Just as he feels the more selfless part of himself winning out and insisting that _he should be a good friend to Blaine, _however, a light – _cautious _– tap on his shoulder breaks him out of his thoughts.

He turns around, and finds himself looking up at the redhead who he would _sincerely love to blame for everything, _but _can't. _(At the moment, it's solely on the grounds that Jeremiah's positively _beaming _down and Kurt, and he's actually kind of _handsome_, now that Kurt's _really _looking at him.)

"Hey," the present – former? Kurt hopes he hasn't been at least _demoted _because of Blaine's affinity for showiness – Assistant Manager greets with a not particularly unexpected lack of originality, though it _is _surprisingly knee-weakening for indiscernible reasons. "I heard what you did for me."

Kurt gives Jeremiah a small smile, and casts a helplessly pleased look at where Jeremiah's hand is still on his shoulder, before assuring, "Don't mention it – I'm sorry that it happened in the first place. I'm sorry you got fired, I mean," he clarifies hastily, as he feels the beginning of a ramble clawing to escape him. "I'm sorry that the flash mob happened, too, but – not that I'm sorry Blaine serenaded _you_, personally, because I'm sure you're a wonderful person, and you _deserve _to be serenaded, it's just that – I, um."

With a pleasant, breathy laugh, Jeremiah nods and his hold on Kurt's shoulder tightens noticeably. "I get it." The way that his eyes are raking over Kurt's body is simultaneously unnerving and confidence-boosting, and Kurt feels himself blushing under the attention. "So."

"So?" Kurt repeats with more eagerness than he'd usually want to show, but that feels unusually _appropriate _in this situation. Jeremiah seems to think so, too, as he leans in a little closer - or maybe Kurt just imagined it? At this point, Kurt doesn't know _anything _to be truth, aside from the fact that he feels some sort of spark between himself and this boy – _man _– that he's never felt with _Blaine_; a spark comparable to the one Kurt felt oh-so-briefly with _Sam _in the few times that they conversed.

Only _Sam _never looked at Kurt with so much (unrestrained) lust, and _Sam's _erection never got to the point that Jeremiah's has. (Kurt thinks that he'll mentally chide himself for that admittedly rude glance at Jeremiah's crotch later, when _that erection isn't so near to his own. _Which, Kurt has to wonder along the way – _when the hell did that get there?)_

The brief ogling doesn't seem to faze Jeremiah so much, though, and suddenly his hand has moved from Kurt's shoulder, and that warmth of his hand is now cupping Kurt's cheek. His thumb is wonderfully soft, Kurt notices distantly as it strokes over his cheekbone with – misleading? – intimacy. "So. I kinda have a secret. Can I trust you?"

Eyes wide and glassy, in comparison to Jeremiah's contemplatively-narrowed and longingly-darkened ones, Kurt breathes a borderline-pathetic, "Of course," as he takes it upon himself to move in further still. He almost doesn't notice that there are only a few inches between them, until Jeremiah's breath is against Kurt's face, and Kurt's quickened heartbeat is suddenly _very _conspicuous.

"Blaine's above the age of consent. It wasn't the age thing that got me – it was just _him. _Guys like him – their bodies just don't do anything for me. I like guys who are a little…willowier. You know the kind I'm talking about?"

Kurt doesn't have the pride to feel embarrassed anymore as he nods wordlessly, and holds Jeremiah's gaze unwaveringly. With an impulsive rush of uncharacteristic _bravery _(uncharacteristic in the field of _sexually_-_charged_ _flirting, _anyway) Kurt remarks, "I'd ask a mirror, but I think your dick's giving me a pretty good indication that I know the kind. Personally."

Despite that Kurt hadn't thought it would be possible as of thirty seconds ago, the tent in Jeremiah's jeans seems to become that much more prominent, and the older male licks his lips before murmuring, "We're closing up early for the holiday today – feel like sticking around for half an hour? I could, uh – show you how to fold a cardigan the right way."

It's not much, as far as enticements go – Kurt's known how to _properly _fold a cardigan since he was nine years old – but Kurt isn't about to point that out as Jeremiah gives him _that look_, consisting of his lower lip being worried _deliciously _between his teeth. He just nods again, and inquires with quiet curiosity, "Are you really going to be able to hold out another thirty minutes?"

Jeremiah looks just as convinced as Kurt is that he'll be able to – that's, _not at all _– but shrugs, and gives a lopsided smile tinged with a feeling of _hopefulness _as he whispers, "Maybe, if I know that there'll be a payoff waiting for me."

Though he's not quite sure when it became mutually understood that _there was an unspoken proposition between them_, Kurt can't help but to let out a _wholly aroused _moan that comes from a place deep inside of him that _he didn't even know existed_. It's confirmation enough for Jeremiah, who pulls away – _reluctantly _- to go about awkwardly shuffling around the store, while Kurt just tries to stay out of the way. He amuses himself by watching Jeremiah continually try to pull down his hoodie (though it's not quite so _amusing _as it is _sexy, _and a little bit _excruciating _considering that he has a similarly raging boner straining against his Dalton slacks), tapping out an only partially apologetic text to Blaine (after deciding that the "emergency call from Finn" route is the way to go), and _vividly _imaging what Jeremiah's hiding in his pants (while hoping that his lewd thoughts aren't being broadcast through his usually transparent features).

One by one, the other employees leave – each casting him a wondering look, except for that one cashier, who grins conspiratorially, gives Kurt a thumbs up, and mouths what Kurt thinks is supposed to be an, "It's about time!". Kurt doesn't quite understand it, but it's still enough to make him blush violently as she laughs her way towards the exit.

Though he feels instantly shamed by his lack of self-control, the moment that Jeremiah's employer departs (with a lingering, wary look at Kurt), and Jeremiah closes up the store – Kurt throws himself at the older man, and more specifically, the older man's _clothes_.

Not that Jeremiah complains, as he attacks the buttons of Kurt's slacks with intensity that Kurt's never seen on _anyone _about _anything. _(Except maybe Rachel about solos, but Kurt pushes that thought from his mind the moment it enters. He gets the feeling that losing his virginity is _very near _in the future, and he does _not _want the memories tainted any further than they will be by it being with some guy who he _doesn't even know _in a GAP store.)

Even if it _is _with some guy Kurt doesn't even know in a GAP store, however, Kurt still thinks blissfully that _it's still wonderful _as Jeremiah's hands slide beneath the waistband of Kurt's slacks to his bare and _needing _flesh. (Kurt's habit of disregarding boxers still remains, despite the fact that he's no longer permitted to wear his skinny jeans every day.) Jeremiah cups Kurt's ass _firmly, _and the brunette moans wantonly and arches back into the touch, searching for _more contact _from the unfamiliar but _oh so very welcome _hands against his flesh.

"Shit – this uniform is really horrible," Jeremiah says with an awkward chuckle, before his hands slide back up, and his fingers hook themselves along the waistband of Kurt's trousers. Without a word of warning, and only a gasp in answer, said trousers are pulled down, and there's an abrupt wave of cold air on Kurt's erect cock.

Jeremiah makes some sort of incoherent statement as he stares, but somehow – Kurt doesn't feel nearly as self-conscious as he does when he's fully-clothed and with Blaine. Rather than fidgeting under the gaze – observant, but _awestruck _instead of _scrutinizing _and _judgmental _– Kurt simply stands patiently, and lets Jeremiah look as much as he pleases.

Or, that's his intention at first, anyway. When it passes the minute and a half mark, Kurt makes an impatient noise, and reaches out to fumble with Jeremiah's fly. "Will you _please_?" he says, his tone conveying more frustration than he actually feels, and startling Jeremiah.

Feeling immediately apologetic, a crimson blush finally stains Kurt's cheeks as he ducks his head nervously. "I'm sorry, I just…"

His words quickly fall to near-silence as Jeremiah's lips attack a sensitive point Kurt didn't realize he had beneath his ear, and he only _just _notices when Jeremiah's hands pull Kurt's own away, and set about unzipping the jeans themselves.

On the other hand, when Jeremiah succeeds at what Kurt failed at, Kurt notices _very much. _Kurt will be the first – or, at least _one _of the first – to admit that he doesn't have much experience with men _in the flesh, _but from the little porn that he's watched, he thinks that Jeremiah's very well _hunt, _and the moment his eyes lock onto that beautiful, wonderful, _mind-blowing organ, _they don't want to let go. No other thoughts occupy Kurt's mind as he tears away from Jeremiah's lips, and gapes. (Though he does make an effort to call back his earlier thoughts of Rachel, so as to not blow his load just yet.)

It works, but only by the skin of his teeth, and Kurt's struggles to even his hastened breathing are to no avail.

Having apparently noticed Kurt's near-brush with orgasm, Jeremiah lets out a guttural groan before slamming Kurt against the same table that Blaine had made his pedestal earlier in the day. "Sorry," he whispers with a surprising amount of sincerity when Kurt makes a painted noise at the feeling of the table pressing – hard – into his back, in a way that's more forceful than he would like.

As though he heard Kurt's mental wishes for him to take things gentler, Jeremiah slips his hands – slowly; carefully – under Kurt's ass, and easily lifts him to sit on the table. Kurt sits uncertainly for a moment, before Jeremiah blows a cool stream of air onto the head of Kurt's cock, and licks his lips hungrily. "Lean back," he manages to rasp.

Kurt follows the instruction cautiously, and bows back against the shelf behind him as he watches the older male sucking on his fingers intently. It's strikingly hot, but Kurt still finds himself worrying briefly about _what _he's doing, and _who _he's doing it with, when Jeremiah pulls his saliva-coated fingers from his mouth, and inches them closer to Kurt's hole.

But then Jeremiah looks up at Kurt with _earnest _eyes, and Kurt can't help but to trust the man as he smiles, and nods almost imperceptibly. His courage is _absolutely _rewarded when Jeremiah's index finger traces gently around Kurt's pucker, and gradually presses in. The sensation is unlike anything Kurt's ever felt – for the most part, he's always avoided masturbation in general, with the reasoning that it would be _just his luck _that his father would walk in – in a way that Kurt thinks is _definitely _pleasant, despite the burning, and the stinging, and the stretching.

He focuses instead on the _wonderful _parts – the _burning, _the _stinging, _the _stretching – _and gasps shamelessly before pleading, "_Moremoremore_," before he even has time to realize what he's asking for.

(Though that's not to say that he regrets it, because when Jeremiah _does _add another finger, it's heavenly _and _hellish at the same time.)

By the time that Jeremiah's up to four fingers, Kurt's begun rocking himself on them, searching for _that spot _that he's heard tell of – that _legendary spot _that's supposedly capable of turning his world upside down. He doesn't find it nearly soon enough, and before long, Jeremiah's fingers are withdrawn, and Kurt's left with a cold emptiness that feels so _foreign _already. Whimpering quietly, Kurt arches back further to allow Jeremiah better access to his ass, before he notices that _that's not the problem, _and that _Jeremiah's pulling out his wallet. _Kurt's breath hitches as he watches Jeremiah pull out a condom, and tear the package open with his teeth – it's an awe-strikingly beautiful and _primal _motion. Jeremiah notices Kurt's gaze on him, and looks up at the younger boy with fond eyes as he extends the condom to Kurt, and offers silently, _Do you want to do it?_

Kurt's mouth goes abruptly dry, and he does nothing more than nod in a way that must look horribly pathetic as he sits flat and scrambles forward for the latex article. Hands trembling, Kurt slowly approaches Jeremiah's cock, but only manages to roll it only when a larger pair of hands guides his. He gives Jeremiah a grateful smile for the help, and leans upward to press an oddly chaste kiss to Jeremiah's cheek in thanks.

Jeremiah just smiles at Kurt, patiently, before his hands set about pulling off Kurt's trousers, socks, and shoes. Kurt considers protesting, and doing it himself rather than being so reliant on Jeremiah's experience, before he's distracted by Jeremiah's tempting curls in front of him, and experimentally threads his fingers through the locks.

It doesn't seem to be unpleasant to Jeremiah, who makes a keening noise in the back of his throat when he straightens up again, and slides an arm under Kurt's knees. "Are you flexible?" he asks hoarsely, though his eyes seem to be asking the small expanse of ivory skin that a popped button on Kurt's shirt reveals.

Nodding, and declaring, "Cheerleader," with only slight pride, Kurt casually undoes another button – and another – and _another _– until his shirt is fanned open, and Jeremiah's pupils blow wide. The way that Jeremiah seems incapable of any thought whatsoever, and the way that his mouth has fallen open wordlessly, does wonderful things for Kurt's confidence, and he can't help but grin as Jeremiah swings Kurt's legs over his shoulder, and again turns his attention to Kurt's pleading pucker.

There's only a short-lived moment of hesitation that flickers through Jeremiah's eyes, before he presses the head of his cock into Kurt. Surprised by the feeling of having something that _bulbous_ in him, Kurt gives a subconscious tug on Jeremiah's hair, which soon turns into a desperate yank when the other male proceeds to thrust _all _of himself into Kurt. The two moan in unison, and Kurt gives another curious pull on Jeremiah's tresses when the ginger pulls out – only to be rewarded by a harsh, but _so very wonderful _return of that full, _full _feeling Kurt hadn't had nearly enough time to appreciate.

Kurt soon finds out that there's a pattern to things – he pulls; Jeremiah thrusts; he pulls, and _repeat. _But then, just as Kurt feels the white hot heat of his climax pooling low in his stomach – Jeremiah changes the routine. And then, one of Jeremiah's hands is in _Kurt's _hair, and it's _pulling_, and Kurt's last conscious thought is that now, _he really understands Jeremiah's reactions to Kurt doing it. _He doesn't know what it is, exactly, that he screams when he loses himself to the blackness, but he's fairly certain it's about as intelligible as what Jeremiah said was. (Answer: _not at all intelligible_.)

What feels like an eternity, but what Kurt can only assume is no longer than a minute, later, Kurt's senses return and he notices his legs slowly being lifted off of the coarse fabric of the brown hoodie covering Jeremiah's shoulder. (His ass is empty, he realizes with a kind of sadness that he doesn't entirely understand.) Eyes fluttering open, Kurt first sees Jeremiah smiling lazily at him in what looks like a real kind of _fondness _as the strawberry blonde ties off the condom, and drops it into what Kurt really hopes is a trash bin underneath the self. The sight of a pair of lips descending on his forehead swiftly follows, and with a hint of reluctance, Kurt lets his fingers slip from their grip in Jeremiah's locks, and gives the older man a small, suddenly very shy smile of his own.

Without saying anything for a few minutes, Kurt basks in the afterglow of _his first time _with _some Jeremiah guy whose last name he doesn't even know _in _a GAP store. _It's surprisingly...romantic, he almost thinks, when Jeremiah laughs quietly under his breath, and runs a thumb down Kurt's now-mussed chest. The silence is comfortable for a few minutes – until it gets the point of _awkward, _as Kurt realizes something.

"My name's Kurt."

Jeremiah nods like it's completely normal to just be receiving a real introduction _now _(Kurt's almost willing to pray that that's _not _completely normal to him, considering the way that _he actually kind of likes this guy_), and nestles his nose into the crook of Kurt's shoulder and collarbone tenderly. "Jeremiah, like I said."

They stay like that for a little while, before Kurt makes to sit flat on the table, only to hiss at the – this time highly unpleasant – sting. Jeremiah hums in what Kurt thinks is apology, as he rests his hands softly on the small of Kurt's back.

"That's probably going to hurt for a couple days," Jeremiah says quietly. "I'm sorry. You're – you were – a virgin, right?" Kurt wonders if Jeremiah even noticed his minute nod before he continued. "Fuck. This kinda sucks then…you deserved better than this. Listen, I get it if you hate me for this, but – if you do, could you just maybe…not tell me? This is going to sound really creepy, but…I've sorta seen you around for a while, even though you don't actually shop here, and I've kinda had a weird _thing _for you. Not like, I'm going to kidnap you or something, but just that I saw you, and I thought you were cute, and my type, and –"

And at that point, Kurt doesn't know what it is that makes him do it, but he gently lifts Jeremiah's head from where the other man was apologizing into Kurt's flesh, and he kisses him. It's soft, and brief, and nothing like what they've just done together – but Kurt almost thinks that it means more to him than _that _did.

He almost thinks that Jeremiah feels the same way, when he beams, and rests his forehead against Kurt's.

"Would you maybe like to go out sometime?" he asks hopefully, as Kurt absently twines their fingers together, and gives him a fond smile.

It isn't, and wasn't, love at the time.

But Kurt thinks that it could be, in the future.

_**xoxox**_

**Short Version Prompt: **Kurt gets Jeremiah's job back for him. Jeremiah informs him that he didn't reject Blaine because of his age, but because he's not his type – and Kurt is. Kurt stays around after the store closes, and they get their nasty on around the store. Emphasis on hair pulling.

**AN: **The prompt also asked for a round two, but I had to get some fluffiness in here to justify Kurt's sluttiness, and couldn't make it fit. I might write a sequel with that, though, if I can find the time.

**AN (2): **It is my head-canon that Jeremiah totally had an almost-stalker/admiring-from-afar crush on Kurt from even before the Gap Attack. (lololol I still have a fic in my folder with that where I still called him Sebastian.)

**AN (3): **Errors are mine alone.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.


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